And they put a hole in every tenth one...

Published by Daniel I Russell in the blog Daniel I Russell's blog. Views: 124

WARNING! Adult content!

I've done some **** jobs in my time, and none were worse than working the night shift at a petrol station back in Wigan. (Mind you, I was once in a scat film, and that was a **** job, and I had to give a few… Sorry about that last comment. Don't want to leave you with a sour taste in your mouth). Besides petrol, the second most popular product was cigarettes, especially on Christmas day. If I had a pound for every guy that came in moaning, 'thank god you're open! The family are doing my ****ing nut in!' I would have had about…well about £15. I could have got that Metallica CD I wanted. That's how much they cost in 1998, kids. We didn't have any, and Amazon only sold books! Books!

Behind the ever popular cigarettes were the condoms. Now a lot of people talk about condoms, and it's an easy area to poke fun (and they are used to poke a fun area), but we must discuss the matter with seriousness and dignity, as nodders, or rubber johnnies save lives and prevent teenage pregnancy. Personally, I prefer the term bag, as in mate, she looks a bit rough. Better double-bag it…

Hey, fellas. Ever, when you were about 14 or 15, put one on just for practise, and thought to hell with it and had a wank too? I didn't. But friends of mine did.

Anyway, back to work.

We had two types of customer that bought condoms from the petrol station. There was the normal guy, who would rather die than by condoms from another human being, but the prospect of sex makes us do crazy things at times, does it not? These guys would creep up to the counter:

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"…s, please…"

"Excuse me?"

"…oms, please…"

"Sorry, you'll have to speak up."

"Condoms!" they'd hiss, eyes darting around.

"Ah!" I would say, nice and loudly. "CONDOMS! Why didn't you say! Yes we have CONDOMS, sir! All kind of CONDOM! We have flavoured CONDOMS, ribbed CONDOMS, and other…sir?"

I'd look up and he'd be on the other side of the forecourt, diving into his car.

The other type of customer was worse. They'd stroll in, bold as brass with a big-breasted blonde girl on their arm.

"CONDOMS!" they would declare. "You do sell them, don't you?"

"Yes," I'd say. "Unless the rows and rows behind me are some kind of mirage."

"Well, I'll have some. What's the largest you sell?"

A roll of the eyes. "They are all the same size, sir."

"Right then. And how many in a pack?"

"Twelve is the biggest pack we sell."

"Only twelve?"

Yes, only twelve. Mind you, looking at the blonde on his arm, who could blame him? The lucky bastard.

I didn't know there was such a selection of condom until I started work. There were flavoured ones – fruit flavours mostly. I tried to convince my girlfriend that they count towards one of your five a day, but she called me a bull****ter. Actually, I lost my virginity using a chocolate flavoured condom. I still get a nostalgic thrill every time I eat a twix.

We also sold ribbed—and I am yet to meet a woman who can actually feel the ribs. Ribs? Is that the right word?—and coloured.

A friend of mine went on a tour of Europe a few years ago and stayed with about 8 other people in a hostel. He awoke in the middle of the night in complete darkness. He spied a tiny flashing green light in the corner and awoke the girl the next bed.

"What's that?" he asked.

The light went out, but after a minute of silence, resumed its flashing.

"Weird," she said.

The light went out again.

Tired and puzzled, they went back to sleep, and didn't think of the strange light until morning, when they found a used, luminous green condom in the bin between two beds in the corner.

Another job, and another type of condom, was found thanks to Ladbrokes. They had a promotion to raise the profile of men's heath, checking your balls for lumps and all that. I don't think there's a danger of testicular cancer sneaking up on anyone. Most men know their balls better then they know their wives, as hours of pocket snooker will testify. In this promotion, packs were supplied to the male customers, enclosing leaflets and a free condom from Durex.

My manager and I did the decent thing and gave out the packs…sans condom, of course. At the end of the day we had filled a binbag hidden under the desk. These were revolutionary condoms at the time, called Profecta. Heard of them? They contain an analgesic in the lube which numbs the penis slightly, making you last longer. I managed to use three of them back to back before I felt the effects. I couldn't feel anything from the waist down for about an hour. At least I fared better than my flat mate. He couldn't even get one on before he lost all feelings in his fingers…

The latest condom I've seen was from a machine in some toilets in Southport. They claimed to increase girth, length and rigidity. I bought one and all that came out the machine was a length of lead piping, sealed at one end.

Two old women were sat outside their care home one afternoon, Edith, aged 90, and Gladys, erm, 91 (I don't know why I'm giving them ages. They're fictional, and their ages are not a crucial plot point). They were both enjoying a cigarette when it started to rain. Edith, not wanting to get her fag wet, removed a condom from her pocket, tore off the end and rolled it onto her Marlborough. Gladys thought this a brilliant idea and the next day went to the chemist (or petrol station if it was Christmas Day) and asked for a pack of condoms. "What kind of condom would you like?" asked the confused attendant, as Gladys was both old and decrepit. "Don't care," said Gladys, "as long as it fits a Camel."

You can have that one.

Finally, in researching a few tidbits for this, I came across an article on Wikipedia on used condom fetish. Think about that for a second. A used condom fetish. It does, unfortunately, involve an individual seeking out used and discarded condoms to wank in, eat or insert into their anus. And to think, I was eating a pie at the time.

But good old Wikipedia doesn't just give you the facts, it gives you tips too!

These are 100% genuine and copied directly from the site.

Most persons with a used condom fetish obtain their used condoms by searching, or "condom hunting", areas where people engage in public sex in places like a parking lot, lovers lane, truck stop, alley, adult theater, or a gay bath house.

This sounds like it might be fun for the kids. Better than collecting Yu-Gi-Oh cards, or whatever they're into now. Might even be a scouts badge one day, with homours for finding a black French Tickler. And a gay bath house? Never heard of one of them. I bet they're spotless.

Wikipedia goes on, and this bit cracked me up:

A condom fetish is also satisfied by "condom swapping", which is the act of making arrangements with another person to pick up, drop off, or deliver a used condom to the willing recipient. Condom swapping is generally best done locally since most delivery and postal companies will not accept a used condom for delivery.

Really? Well, there's a disappointment, what with Christmas coming up. Bloody Royal Mail and they're conformist ways! I have a vision of slapping on one the scales. First class, sir? It certainly was, mate!

So remember, always wear a condom! After all, you don't know where she's been…
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